


Best Mistake

by thewaterymellen



Series: tell them they're loved from your toy computer [1]
Category: Colleen Ballinger - Fandom, Haters Back Off (TV), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erikleen - Freeform, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Haters back off, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Inspired by an Ariana Grande Song, Miranda Sings - Freeform, Romance, Song: Best Mistake (Ariana Grande), Stockleen - Freeform, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24264727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewaterymellen/pseuds/thewaterymellen
Summary: 'cause if the water dries up, and moon stops shining, stars fall, and the world goes blind, boy, you know i'll be saving my love for you. 'cause you're the best mistake i've ever made.
Relationships: Colleen Ballinger/Erik Stocklin, The Disco Dancer | Colleen Ballinger & Erik Stocklin, The Disco Dancer | Colleen Ballinger/Erik Stocklin
Series: tell them they're loved from your toy computer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753144





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ariana Grande's Best Mistake featuring rapper Big Sean. From Wattpad, because I posted it there first. Co-authored by UnicornDaisy11 on Wattpad, so half the credit goes to her.

Standing in the doorway, she stares at the man standing in front of her, unable to take her eyes off him. She struggles to find the correct words. Her chest rises slowly, in time with her breaths, slow and steady, completely dissonant with the frenzy that is her heart. It pounds fast and hard, thrashing and writhing in her chest, slamming against her sternum, and constricting her throat as she tries to speak.

She swallows, placing her hand to her chest, vainly trying to stop her heart from bursting out from its position in her rib cage. Her body throbs with the agonizing rhythm, and she is convinced he can see it.

But he stands there, silent, his face portraying no information. Nothing. His eyes are closed, his lips twitching as he too tries to conjure the words that he needs. His eyes slowly flicker open, his long eyelashes fluttering as he fixes his gaze on the beautiful woman in front of him. He never should have doubted her.

Her breath catches in her throat as he looks down on her with an emotion that cannot be described with words.

She blinks rapidly, feeling a shred of remorse pierce her heart as an excruciating agony grips her in the chest, but she remains silent, heart aching as her brain echoes the words:

_I'm so sorry._

They stand there in silence, her gaze searching his eyes wide open. She looks at him helplessly, unable to say what she so desperately wants to.

She's drowning. Drowning in his hazel eyes that are flawlessly wide and brimming with life. Drowning in the emotion that swims in his eyes. Drowning as her own reflection glistens in the light brown orbs that hold too much.

But she only feels one thing: fear, fear of the three unspoken words she never spoke, the words that hung between them like a suspended veil that couldn't be torn down, a suspended veil that _wouldn't_ be torn down. Unless...

She stumbles out the house, heart pulsating in anger, anger aimed toward herself. Anger toward herself, for the words she never said. For the three words that would never be said, until she will one day finally muster the courage to.

Instead, she growls, " _You already did."_

* * *

_"if you run out of ideas, think of some more."  
_ _~colleen ballinger_


	2. Loving Can Hurt Sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colleen's POV

A lot of people tell me I'm too emotional for my own good. I guess that's true because I'm crying. Again. At least I think I am.

At this point, I'm sort of numb, stricken with grief for the show I worked so hard to create and produce. It was my entire life. And now it's gone. I'm more distressed than I give myself credit for or ever admit, and I don't think I can hold back more tears. 

So, of course, I drink. But I don't drink. That's a known fact, by all the people who know and don't really know me. Erik calls me a lightweight. I guess that's right because after one glass I'm feeling light-headed. I'm tipsy, and I dread the headache and stomach-wrenching hangover I'll have in the morning, but today's today. I'm going to live in the moment and not worry about tomorrow, because that's what got me emotional in the first place.

I'm going to be so dead tomorrow.

"Here's to two seasons of Haters Back Off," I lift my glass, running a finger over my bleeding mascara in a futile attempt to wipe it off. My voice is trembling, and so am I, the glass of alcohol heavy and unsteady in my hand.

Soft murmurs fill the room as my family echoes my toast. I'm surrounded by people I love —one in a way I'm unwilling to admit aloud, although it's getting obvious, at least to Kory— not my blood family, but my second family, my co-star from my very own Netflix original and my roommate.

"I love you guys," I murmur, but those tender words are directed at one person, in particular, the one and only Erik Stocklin, aka Patrick Mooney. "I don't think I've said that enough."

_He didn't take the hint._

Kory chuckles, shaking his head, "If fifteen times isn't enough, I don't know what is." He flashes me a wink and even in my half-drunken state, it's not hard to tell he knows. He _knows._ He knows about my unrealistic, insane, unrequited crush on my co-star, who I've kissed multiple times and never told how I felt.

In my defense, 1) I was still married when I started developing these feelings, and that guilt still weighs me down like a rock in my shoe and 2) they were on-screen kisses.

Kory claims I'm in love, but I don't know about that. I don't know what love feels like anymore, whether it's an urge to protect that person or that little flutter that turns my stomach upside down or the fact that I can't help a little high-pitched giggle escape my lips that so desperately want to touch his again or the plain simple, obvious fact that I would die for him.

Yes. You heard right. Don't come for me. I can't help it. I really can't.

There, I said it. I've always been protective of Erik. I don't know why, but he's been someone who I've wanted to protect. I know he's older than me, but his soul is so innocent and young, childish and sweet. I feel like I am in high school all over again, chasing over my crush like a hormonal teenager, cheeks stained with a rosy blush I can't seem to keep away these days.

Kory also tells me Erik is completely oblivious to my googly eyes and not-so-subtle stares. I don't know if he's told him about me being in love with him because if he has, he's pretending he doesn't. And is doing a great job at it. 

So for now, I assume he doesn't know. I assume he doesn't know that my heart does a little jump whenever he speaks with that adorable quiet voice of his, he doesn't know that my stomach twists in that painfully pleasurable way when he runs his fingers through his dark hair, he doesn't know that my heart speeds up to the speed of a freight train when his lips curl in that beautiful smirk of his.

He doesn't know my heart beats only for him, pulsating in my throat so damn hard when he touches me I practically have a heart attack. He doesn't know I have a freaking crush on him. I tell myself it's only a phase, but I know that's not true, because it's been two years, and I think it's safe to say that my heart palpitations aren't getting better when he's around. Maybe I _am_ in love.

That's not a good thing. It's too soon. Too soon. Too _fucking_ soon. It's not that the internet will hate me. It's that everyone else will. I will be accused of moving on from my marriage too fast, I'll be accused of cheating on Josh. Because technically, I did.

A husband is supposed to be a shoulder to cry on, someone you tell all your secrets, someone you trust and love with your entire _goddamn_ life. That wasn't me with Josh. We'd cruised through our honeymoon phase faster than most, and within months, the perfect porcelain mosaic of our relationship began to show its cracks. But those cracks grew, straining under the pressure of the water that threatened to blow up everything from the inside. The pressure of appearing like a perfect couple online slowly began to erode this facade of perfection, and slowly, what was inside was revealed. The cracks deepened. And like a dam, everything exploded with it.

Erik was the replacement. Sort of. I ran to him for comfort, support, for emotional venting. And he sat there and listened intently. He wrapped me in an embrace when I didn't feel safe in Joshua's, he held me close when I lashed out; he refused to give up on me. I liked him a lot, I knew that, but I didn't tell him, in case he thought he was just merely a rebound. But he was so much more than that.

I don't realize I'm sobbing, the full ugly crying, shuddering, chest convulsing type of sob, sniffling as another tsunami of tears falls from my eyes.

"Colleen?" Erik is looking at me in _that_ way, that cute, adorable way, his doe eyes wide open, hazel touching the depths of my soul, and I freeze, my fists clenching, and it's all I can do to stop myself from launching my petite body and him and attack his lips with mine.

"Excuse me," I manage, my voice barely more than a mere whisper that is swept away but the pure intensity of the moment. I stand up so fast, I'm dizzy as blood rushes to my head. I know I'm drunk, because the room spins around me, and my head is throbbing with the beginnings of a migraine. I stumble, and Kory reaches out to steady me, but this time, I rip my arm away. I'm running, slipping, stumbling on my stairs, crying all the way to my bathroom in my room, slamming the door so hard it echoes in my skull.

I proceed to collapse to my knees in front of my toilet and retch over it, clutching the porcelain bowl to my chest, but nothing comes up as my stomach heaves, gagging, spitting, but I can't vomit. No matter how hard I try, I can't expel the poison that's eating me up and destroying from the inside.

I can't take it anymore. 

I can't help loving him like I've never loved anyone else in my life. 

* * *

_"i'm afraid you don't get to decide what you're worth to other people."  
~patrick mooney_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ed Sheeran's Photograph


	3. Hey, We're Gonna Be Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik's POV

"Colleen? Are you okay?" I ask, troubled. 

The way she looked at me before she sprinted up the stairs like I was some monster, made me want to rip out my own heart. She looked as if she could never be happy again, and that's exactly what led me to wait impatiently outside the bathroom door for her, knocking desperately.

"Please, just no," she pleads, "Leave me alone." Colleen's voice is broken and exhausted from crying, and my heart breaks for her, making me wish that I could somehow make her happy. But I really don't know how, and I swear it's going to be the death of me someday.

Sometimes I feel like the monster I think I am.

"Colleen, you're drunk. I-" The door clicks as she undoes the lock, and I immediately push it open, revealing a wasted but still adorable Colleen Ballinger, cheeks flushed and stained with tears and mascara.

"Why?" Colleen is shaking as she throws herself at me, hugging me tightly, sobbing. Her head is tucked in my chest, face pressed so tightly to my sternum her breath burns me to the bone. "I poured my heart into all of this! Do they expect me to throw it all away? Do they expect me to believe that everything I've ever worked for wasn't enough?" her voice cracks and her wide eyes are fixed on me, begging for an answer. 

Her cheeks are stained with the tears that spill down her flushed face. Colleen's words stick, and I feel my heart crack, splitting into tiny pieces at the agony that throbs so excruciatingly heavy her voice. Again and again. Over and over again.

Everything she has been through could be covered in her last three sentences, including, well...Joshua. I could've known. I _should've_ known. During her divorce I wished her the best; I only wanted to see my best friend be happy. I pushed my crush for her aside and talked to the person, the human behind the facade of bright smiles and endless humor. It was so hard not to take her in my arms and kiss her worries away. We just became extremely close friends at this time, which was enough for me if I could still be with her.

It was enough for me if she was fine with it.

Further on in the process of the divorce, she started to push people away, including me. I begged her to have at least someone to talk to during this hard time. She opened herself to me, maybe not willingly, but it was enough for the time being. I wasn't going to give up on her. And I still refuse to now. 

She's the shore and I'm the ocean because no matter how far she pushes me away, no matter how far I'm flung backward, I always come back, with gentle, inviting currents, which seem to apologize for all of it. My waters are warm, blue, cradling her gently until she opens her eyes, hopefully, dry and clear. I'm never going to give up on her. I simply refuse. Because that's what you do when you love someone.

"We aren't going to throw this away. No one ever said we were going to throw this away. Colleen, I know you. You aren't going to let this ruin you. You have so much more power in you. You are the strongest woman I have ever met. You have so much more in you, Colleen. I know you can do it. I'll always be right there to help you through. Maybe you should get your mind off this, okay?" I say this while staring into her miserable doe eyes.

"Nothing is going to work out for me again. This was my one shot," Colleen sighs as she hugs me again. She's slurring slightly, her pupils dilated, and I wince. When Colleen wraps her arms around me, all I wanted to do was hold onto her tight and never let go. 

The thing is, I've always seen her as someone who I would risk my life for. And I would, in a heartbeat. But right now, she needs comforting, and I'm not going to go beat up Netflix for her. She's just a busy person that's broken at the moment and needs a break. I'll give her one.

"Why don't we take this somewhere else?" I whisper softly into her ear. I'll grab you another drink, whatever you want, okay?" I console, she nods immediately. I walk down the hallway, and back to the kitchen, where I grab a full bottle of wine and two glasses. I rush back to Colleen's room locking the door behind me and going to the dresser to place the drink down. I pour the wine glasses up halfway and hand one glass to Colleen.

"Really?" She asks.

"Why not? Let yourself loose for a night. You deserve it," I suggest.

"Okay," She sits down on her bed and takes her first sip, the wine hitting her immediately as if it hadn't already. I take a long sip of my wine, feeling it work its way into my bloodstream. We exchange eye contact, looking at each other with a sudden intensity that makes me want to claim her lips with mine. Something about this moment makes me never want to look away. Ever.

At that moment, everything goes still. Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect and flawless, like the way it is in movies and books. But the alcohol has weakened my willpower to the point where a gentle breeze can send it all tumbling down. There's no resistance left. Only desire. It's enough for me not to think twice about crashing my lips into hers. Our teeth clash in the wake of desperation, her teeth nicking my bottom lip.

_She's kissing me back._

It's desperate and needy, and I'm almost proud of myself for holding out so long. For resisting this crush that blossomed into a love and exploded out of me. I think my mistake was to look into her eyes. Because I can never look away. In my defense, I'm drunk, and any amount of self-control I have has evaporated.

"I love you, Ballinger," I mumble into her ear. I run my fingers through her long, brown hair, taking her lips with mine. She's irresistible. I'm already going crazy at her touch, and I can't resist a soft whimper as my mouth dries. It's like fire. A fire that consumes every ounce of self-control, a fire that makes my body react in unfathomable ways.

"I love you too, Stocklin," Colleen whispers with a slight giggle and sniffle, practically tearing my shirt off as we tumble over, the covers deftly thrown over our bodies, locked in a pleasurable dance I never want to forget.

I mean, I'm fine with it. More than fine.

* * *

_"hey, we're gonna be alright."  
~ariana grande, be alright_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's Be Alright


	4. Gotta Take It to Another Level

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colleen's POV

The first thing I notice is that my mouth is so parched my tongue feels cracked. Then the pain comes. In waves. I bite down, hard, on my lip as a throbbing knocks at my skull, practically shattering it from the inside. The bright sunlight streaming from the balcony doesn't help any matters, and I taste blood as the pain intensifies.

_What's going on? What happened last night? Was I drinking?_ I'm completely disoriented, my vision swimming with spots of darkness. I shift, a small groan falling from my lips as any movement exponentially increases the agony.

And... I'm sore. I don't remember a single second of anything that happened last night after I stormed up the stairs. Did I fall? Was I so uncoordinated I collapsed?

I can barely stand when I roll out of bed, my knees buckling almost immediately. Everything from my abs down aches, especially my hips, and I wince as I waddle to my bathroom, the excruciating banging in my head only growing more insistent.

I swallow a couple of painkillers and down a glass of water for good measure, before brushing my teeth quickly.

I decide to go downstairs, maybe _someone_ knows what happened last night? I grab a light blanket and drape it around my shoulders, and head towards the stairs. I walk steadily down the stairs limping, barely being able to walk. I enter the living room and sit down, covering myself with the blanket.

"You're not going to try some of this _delicious_ bacon?" A voice teased, slightly hoarse and husky, and I can't deny that my heart skips a beat right there.

"Wha...Erik?" I ask, turning my head. I nearly die saying those words, because my throat is constricting and my heart is about to explode out of my mouth.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"I hate you, Stocklin."

"You know you love me," his voice is light, betraying nothing that happened less than eight hours ago, and I can't help a little giggle.

" _Maybe_." But I do. And I'm blushing. I can't help it. "By the way," I'm trying to keep my voice nonchalant but I don't think it's working, "What happened last night?"

He only shrugs, "Dunno. I think we both consumed an unhealthy amount of alcohol, and I don't remember anything." He winces slightly, placing a couple of fingers on his temples.

"Nothing?" I wonder, closing my eyes as if it'll help me remember.

"I mean, I woke up clothed," I'm sure it's meant to be a joke, but my eyes widen as I consider the possibility, before realizing I woke up in pajamas. 

"Same," I breathe out a silent sigh of relief, my heart suddenly pounding in my head, obviously not helping my headache.

"Headache. You?"

"Yeah," I sigh, "want some painkillers?"

He nods, and I fetch some from the bathroom, returning with a few pills in my hand which he takes gratefully. He notices my slight limp and frowns, his lips quirking downward for a moment.

"You okay?" His eyes are concerned, and it makes my heart melt.

"Yeah. I'm a little sore," I wince as I stretch out my leg, "I think I fell last night. 'Cause I have a vague recollection of me running up the stairs, and I'm sure I fell. I mean, if I was _that_ drunk..."

"Odd. I'm not sure I remember you falling, but I was drunk too so I can't confirm," Erik chuckles.

I decided to change the topic, "Where's Kory?"

"Here!" He grins at us as he stumbles into the kitchen, hair wild, eyes bleary. "Why?"

I let out an audible sigh, "So we were both drunk last night-"

I'm cut off as Kory cocks an eyebrow suggestively, "Ooh."

"Shut up!" I turn my head away from Erik to hide a blush that's creeping up my neck and setting my face on fire.

"I'm I missing something?" Erik looks at Kory and me for answers, genuinely so clueless it's adorable.

"He thinks we had sex," I state bluntly, flatly, and his eyes widen in realization. "Okay, Kory. I woke up in clothes," I explain, rolling my eyes, "In my _own_ bed. And I'm sure if we did, you would've heard us."

Erik is embarrassed. His cute little face is reddening as we speak and I snicker, "I woke up in the guest room with my clothes on," he speaks up, stuttering slightly.

"Okay, I'll admit I didn't _exactly_ hear you guys," my gay best friend frowns, "But that still doesn't mean you guys didn't fuck."

"KORY DESOTO! If we did fuck, have sex, make love, whatever, I wouldn't be standing here talking about it."

"Make love?" Kory splutters, "Oh my god Colleen, are you freaking serious right now?" The only thing that's going through my mind right now is _he knows, he knows, he knows, oh my god, he's gonna tell Erik exactly how I feel and then he'll just laugh and leave because he doesn't feel the same way._

But he doesn't. And now Erik's blushing. I can tell. And I think I am too. _Dammit, Kory, why do you have to talk about this?_

"Shut up. One more word and I'm walking out of this room," I complain, glaring at my roommate.

"Word," I'm practically burning a hole in his head at this point and I think he can see the _shut the hell up_ in my gaze because he actually does shut up, and it's a relief.

"Well..." My crush, former co-star, whatever, shuffles his feet awkwardly, and I find it cute. Oh, who am I kidding, I find everything he does absolutely endearing. "I made breakfast. I'm just going to... leave now."

_Stay_ , I almost blurt, a soft plea that would've gotten me laughed at, so I bite it back as it threatens to push out from behind my closed lips. He heads upstairs to grab his keys, and I plop down on a stool.

"I hate you," I grumble to Kory. "You had to go say that I fucked him."

"Oh, so _you_ fucked _him_?

"Just... shut up!" I whine, slumping down with my head in my arms.

"Consider it done," he saunters away with a wink, and I can only stare after him with my mouth agape. 

_That idiot._

* * *

_"we don't need no guest list, everybody's invited, i'm saying, "even if you can't get in, we'll dance outside it."  
_ _~ariana grande, pink champagne_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's unreleased song Pink Champagne


	5. Stop Acting Like We're Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colleen's POV

The past four days have been excruciating. I haven't been sleeping, I feel sick, and worst of all, I haven't seen Erik for three and a half days. I don't want to see him either. But at the same time, it's hard to go a minute without thinking of him, and what I'd say to him when I saw him again, among... other things. I've thought about calling him multiple times but held myself back in fear of humiliation. He's tried to text me, but I haven't answered. 

No matter how much I love him, I can't bring myself to talk to him about what just happened. And it makes it worse that it's not that I _can't_. It's that I _won't._ It's hard to throw feelings out there knowing that they may never be returned. I'm afraid of my own feelings, maybe his lack of feelings towards me.

Having Kory as a roommate and friend is amazing because he's a wonderful and extremely funny person. But when he makes dirty remarks with your crush standing next to you, leaving you completely humiliated, it's not that great.

No matter how much Kory pisses me off, he's always there to give me a good laugh. I love him, and I know he loves me too. Caught up in my thoughts, I disconnect from the world around me.

What is happening? Why do I feel like something is wrong and can't bring myself to what it is? Did I do something wrong? Something about the morning after the party was off. I usually remember. And there's still something I'm missing... something I should know, but don't. And I'm crying again. Again.

The sharp chime of my familiar doorbell knocks me out of this delusion, and my head snaps upward. I don't want to get up from the couch; my limbs feel heavy, immobile, and Kory would tell me I'm moping. So I stand with a wince, running my fingers through my disheveled hair, and reluctantly stride to the door. 

There's a certain feeling in the air, call it a premonition, a crackling tension of a storm that hangs in the air, and it makes my heart race. 

What's behind it, though, is what makes my heart stumble to a stop.

"Stocklin?"

I don't know what to do. I'm standing there, my eyes bloodshot and swollen with tears. He looks just as disoriented as I am.

"You okay?" His voice is a deep, husky croak, and I feel my teeth clench as a strange but not novel sensation floods me at the sound of his voice.

"I'm fine," I'm not fine. I'm as far away from fine as you can get.

"Colleen. Are you okay?" Erik pleads, more seriously this time.

"I'm fine," I mutter, lying to the person I love most once again. He looks at me with sad eyes, and I can practically read every word in them. _I know you're not._ The mood shifts and I find myself shifting the door so the crack between it and the door frame is smaller.

The air between us is so thick I can cut it with a knife and I feel my breathing speed up in a way that I hate and love at the same time. I can't control my heart, which is pounding so hard I don't know how Erik can't hear it. I can't control my breathing; the air is raggedly rushing in and out of me out of my control. I can't control the slickness that's beginning to form on my palms, and our proximity brings weakness to my legs. I absolutely abhor these feelings I have no control over whatsoever. My mind is open to manipulation, my arms and my legs strung to the hands of the puppeteer. My heart squeezes as he looks at me now. I'm a slave to my emotions.

"No," Erik mumbles, sounding a lot like Patrick now. His lips barely move, and his eyes are cast downwards, much like mine. The silence is deafening, heavy, pushing on my lungs so hard it's choking me.

"Erik-"

"No," Erik stops me. These are the types of moments that I wish would go away.

"I'm sorry."

"Please just stop. I can't take this, I really can't. How many texts have I sent you? How many times have I called you?" Erik 's eyebrows tilt with a hint of barely controlled anger.

"Eighteen and six," I manage to say, at loss for air. My head starts to feel heavy and my eyes well up with tears. I am barely holding back a waterfall when Erik looks at me.

"What?"

"You texted me eighteen times and called six," My voice brittle, tears now on the edge of falling once again.

I know I'm in the wrong here, for not responding, for not bothering to text him, for ignoring him although he's worried about me. I know it's my fault he's here checking up on me, because I didn't bother to even check his texts.

But never does the word "sorry" come out of my mouth.

"I want to help you, I really do, but you can't just push me away. I've spent time listening to your complaints, your sorrow, your pain, for over two years and you expect me to suddenly stop caring about everything? 

"I won't stop caring. I wouldn't. I didn't want to give up on you. All I ever wanted to do was help you and see you smile. You keep pushing me away. _Fuck you, Colleen_."

The blood drains from my face, and I can feel myself swaying as numbness washes over me. Everything goes silent to the point where you can hear a pin drop. His words echo in my head, ricocheting from side to side, filling my head until I gasp, and it's all I can do to keep me from slumping to the ground clutching my head. It only takes me about half a second to have all the answers to all the questions I've been asking myself for almost four days, to flood back to me.

It hurts, really, to realize that in my drunk stupidity, I really _did_ make a mistake. So Kory was right. I'm shaking, quivering so hard I'm going to explode, my legs are weak and numb beneath me, knees on the verge of buckling. Tears bleed from my eyes all over my splotchy red cheeks, as those three words sting my heart like an ice pick. I'm barely aware of the next words that blurt from my mouth, the next words that only drive the ice pick deeper.

I don't know how I didn't piece everything together earlier. The soreness, the fact that he stayed overnight, the fact that I was drunk and didn't remember anything.

"You already did." 

_Well, that escalated quickly._

* * *

_"break up, make up, total waste of time, can we please make up our minds, and stop acting like we're blind?"  
~ariana grande, best mistake_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's Best Mistake


	6. Do Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik's POV

_You already did._

My eyes widen in utter shock, and it rings in my head, crashing over and over again in waves so high they almost knock me off my feet. My breath catches in my throat and I know she hears it. My mouth falls open as the unexpected suddenly becomes reality, my hands falling limp to my sides as she slaps me with the truth.

Her eyes carry the weight of remorse; she shouldn't have said anything, and she knows it. But she can't take it back; that's the consequence of thinking before she speaks. Now I know. I know everything.

Regret. That's all I feel. Regret is what pricks behind my eyelids, regret is what floods my eyes. I can't stop it from spilling over, because it's too late. I regret snapping out at her, losing my patience, finally collapsing under the strain of keeping everything inside me.

Without another word, she barges past me, her shoulder slamming into mine. Even with both of us in tears, I still feel the shock that spikes up my arm, akin to an electrical current. Her eyes, drowning in tears, can still make my heart trip over itself, and just her, Colleen Mae Ballinger, hurt and broken and scared, can still have me fall in love with her all over again.

She dropped the bombshell at my feet, not even staying to watch it explode in my face, leaving me to clean up the mess.

I can't move. My feet feel rooted to the ground. The door swings wide and rebounds off the wall before bouncing back. I stop it with a limp hand and shakily sigh. I never even made it over the threshold. I'm shaking. My entire body is quivering, trembling with the force of the knowledge she just flung at me without remorse. I thought she didn't remember. But she did. She remembered that night, and now, so do I. Memories invade my head, multiplying like a virus, taking over so quickly I can only gape in shock. My knees are locked, ever muscle straining and trembling to keep me standing.

_She's drunk. I can tell. Because I am too. Her pupils are dilated, black almost swallowing chocolate brown. But that's okay. Even in this state, my heart still pulses rapidly at my throat, and I'm convinced she can see and hear it. I can't control myself, because I want nothing more than to be holding her, kissing her, touching her. And so I do, because I can't hold back._

_She doesn't seem to mind. She melts into my body like she's meant to be there, her mouth pleading yet hungry on mine, holding me so close like she's afraid I'm going to leave her. You don't have to be afraid, I want to tell her. You don't have to worry, because I'm never letting you go, I want to whisper into her ear as she slips her hands under my shirt. They're ice-cold, I remember, a stark contrast on my flesh that's burning up with the want, the desire, the lust that flows under my skin like magma under a volcano. She's the flint that lights the blood in my veins._

_She's looking at me, eyes soft like a child. So, so innocent. Her lips are slightly raw, her hair tangled. Her eyes are pleading, begging, half-lidded as she drags in breath after breath from her shuddering body, biting her bottom lip seductively._ I want you, _her eyes say._ I need you _, her eyes say._

_And so I give it my all. She's throwing the covers over us and she's taking off our clothes and she's kissing me with a passion I've only ever seen her put into her work. She's melting into me, our bodies fitting perfectly together, hands holding each other so fucking close because we never wanna let go. I can't suppress a delicious shiver as she moans into my mouth, her body writhing and tangling with mine. And as she falls apart in my arms that night, I want to tell her everything. I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her. I love her so fucking much I feel my life bleed out of me every time she cries in pain. And she deserves to know._

I'm gasping and crying on her doorstep, my hands shaking so hard I can barely close the door behind me as I stumble to my car. I can't muster the energy to shove my key into the holeto start my car so I sit there and wallow in despair.

_Does she hate me? Does she blame me for that night?_

I'm white-knuckling my steering wheel, my head resting down on the grip, and I can't control the unending torrent of tears that are pouring from my eyes. I'm sorry, I tell her telepathically, I love you. I don't know if I have the strength to tell her that in person. I don't know if I ever will.

I lift my head reluctantly as the sound of rushing footsteps awakens my senses. It's Colleen. She never left. We look into each other's eyes for a split second, but I know if I stay longer I'm never going to leave, so I go. I drive away even though all I want to do is wrap her up in my arms and hold her tight.

* * *

_"if you knew better, boy, you would do better."_  
_~ariana grande, knew better_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's Knew Better (/Forever Boy)


	7. Falling in Love Wasn't Part of My Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colleen's POV

_One line, one line, one line._ Two. Two lines appear on the dollar store pregnancy test. No. It's one. I'm seeing double. _No, I'm not pregnant_ , I think in my head. My hands shake as I go to take another test out from the two-pack. I take the test again and wait another three minutes. It's so faint. I don't know if I'm seeing things. I can't tell if I'm seeing things. As much as I loathe myself for the mistake I made, I've always wanted to be a mother. _I'm seeing things,_ I urge myself. It's my brain playing tricks on me. Even drunk, I wouldn't have been so stupid to not use protection. I don't even know why I'm taking a pregnancy test. It was just a strange urge, I guess. After seeing people do it on some TV show.

I don't know what I'm seeing. Maybe I should ask Kory. No, I shouldn't. Maybe. No. I decide to go to the store instead.

I almost immediately collapse as I stand, clutching the marble sink top as my knees buckle forward. I can't help a soft chuckle at that, and I turn to wash my hands shakily.

I tiptoe down the stairs— I don't know why I'm tiptoeing. I just feel the need to be quiet, to never let anyone know why I'm going out. Because, to be frank, it's embarrassing. I reach the bottom of my staircase, contemplating whether to sprint the last stretch through my living room to my door.

My bare feet leave soft patters on my wooden tile nevertheless and as I roughly swing the door open, I'm stopped by the one and only Kory DeSoto.

"Colleen? Where are you going?"

Luckily for me, he's completely oblivious to the mess I am, because I'm facing away from him. 

"Oh." I struggle to keep my voice steady and inwardly curse myself out for not running. "Taco Bell."

"Oh. Okay. Bring me back whatever you get."

"Okay." I step out, all too ready to close the door behind me.

"Wait!"

I groan internally, my heart dropping into my stomach.

"Unless it's one of your bean burritos. God, those are gross."

"Uhm, okay, bye!" I slam the door, yelling with false enthusiasm. I'm speed-walking to my car, slumping down into my padded seat in relief when he doesn't open the door to question why I didn't turn around once he called for me. I should go. Starting up the car, I look at my house. When I come back, I'll know. I'll know everything.

I rush into the dollar store, clutching my purse tightly. I go down the medicine aisle, searching for the pregnancy tests. Once I find them, I take five packs from the shelf. I take a quick look around the area nearby to make sure nobody can see me, then I take three more packs. I walk to the front of the store and pull out a hundred dollars, so this won't go on my card.

"Keep the change," I say quickly, rushing out of the building. I get into my car and drive to my closest Taco Bell. I order two Nacho Bell Grande's and one simple bean burrito, despite what Kory says about them. As I pull up to the pick-up window, I see a familiar car from afar. It's Erik's or at least I think it is. _No, no, no, no, no. Not now_. I wait for my stuff impatiently. Once my food is given to me, I floor the gas pedal. I see the car from the other side, realizing that I read the plate very wrong.

I cruise my way home and shuffle around the food when I enter the driveway. I move my tests to the smaller bag that my burrito is in, deciding that I'll play it off as Cinnamon Twists if he asks. I open the door cautiously at first, making sure Kory isn't right there. I walk into the kitchen, setting down the food on the island, then I go to my bedroom. I put the Taco Bell bag on my counter. It's is not possible that I can eat right now, with the way my stomach is churning in anticipation and apprehension. So I don't.

"Colleen!" You got a bean burrito? How rude!" Kory complain in an extremely annoying voice.

"Uh yeah, haha. I'll be right there," I say. I open the first pack of tests, which contains two. I decide to take four. I use up the tests all in a row, at the same time and wait three minutes. They all have one line...but a faint second line on each of them. They appear positive. But that could be my mind. That's when I _remember_. I have one of those expensive pregnancy tests from making a Miranda video. I never actually used that test. I stand up and walk to the Miranda room.

"Colleen!" I hear Kory yell.

"What?" I say, stumbling on my words. My eyes dart around the area around me, making sure Kory isn't near.

"I'm eating my food! Where are you?" Kory asks.

"Um... gimme a second! Gotta use the bathroom!" I run into the Miranda room, frantically searching through my messy shelves. As soon as I see the dusty box, I grab it and run down the hall to my room. I lock the door as quietly as I can and head into my bathroom, twisting the door knob all the way to close the door softly. Panting, I open up the box and take out the expensive test. I use it quickly and wait, my hands shaking profusely, drops of apprehensive perspiration beading on my forehead.

I think it's safe to say this is the longest five minutes of my life. Ding! It's done. Hands trembling, I pick up the test and look at the words on the screen: PREGNANT. My heart drops, not in the good way. Even knowing that it is a possibility, it still punches me right in the chest.

My immediate reaction is: _oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shitttt._

Oh shit indeed, I am pregnant. And I don't know what to think about it.

My mind shifts into overanalyzing mode, running through all possibilities. _Maybe it'll be a good thing. I'll be a mom, like I've always wanted to be. Maybe I have a chance with Erik._

Still, the positivity doesn't come without negativity. My heart only feels heavier when I consider the flip side. _What if Erik hates me for it? What if the Internet ruins my career? What if Erik doesn't want to be my friend anymore?_

I pick up my phone. I need to call someone. I need to tell someone. No, not Rachel. This is something I have to tell her in person. I find one of my friends, considerably younger than me, but I trust her. I trust her not to tell anyone. Maybe because she's _Ariana Grande._ Maybe it's because she's never home, constantly touring around the place. Maybe it's the fact I don't know her _that_ well, so I won't make a fool of myself. That thought makes me wince in guilt, and I push it away as I tap on her contact.

**_Me_ **

_Hey_

_Uh can u pls call me_

**_Ari_ **

_sfskdfjslkfakl_

_omg ur pregnant_

**_Incoming call from Ari_ **

My mouth hangs open. _H-how does she know?_ I shakily answer the call, putting the phone up to my right ear.

"You're pregnant," she says, her voice tinny through the receiver. It's not even a quesiton.

"W-wha- How?"

"I can tell," I can hear a smile in her voice, "You never call me. Or ask me to call you. Unless it's urgent."

"Wow. Uh, okay."

"Is it this Erik guy?" Even one of the busiest women in the world, she still has more of a love life than me, and I can hear the amusement that tings her voice, "Was he good?" she teases, and I almost choke.

"I, uh, don't remember," I mumble with a huge sigh.

"What? No, that's not possible."

"No," I swallow back another sigh, lowering my voice so no one can hear, "I was blackout drunk. I don't remember anything. Except for the fact that we fucked."

"Oh. _Shit_." _Shit_ is right. This isn't a good thing. Understanding edges her voice now and I sit back down on the toilet in fear I will keel over.

"I don't even know if I'm really pregnant," I swallow, gulping the tightness that is clogging my throat, "The lines are so freaking faint. Here, wait, I'm gonna send you a picture." I put her on speaker and turn down the volume, snapping a picture of the numerous tests I have taken.

There's a moment of silence as she observes the photos, and my heart is thumping so loud I'm sure Ari can hear it over the phone.

"It's definitely two lines," she says finally, and I slump in my seat, half in disappointment, half in apprehension, and a little in joy; I'm going to be a mom.

"How am I gonna tell him? I don't even think he likes me the same way." Funny how I'm relying on a 24-year old, someone almost a decade younger than me for relationship advice.

"Oh my fucking god," she puts a hand to her mouth, chuckling; I can tell because her sound is a little muffled before she continues, "You guys aren't dating?"

"Nope," My chest is tight, aching now, "That's the problem. I love him, and I'm sure all he wanted was to get laid." It hurts, it really does.

"But I thought you guys- In your videos-"

"Hold up. You watch my videos?"

"I _do_ have some free time," she chuckles and I can't help but laugh along to her adorable giggle. "But like, your Hawaii vlogs," she gushes, "you two were so cute. And that one where you did the dinosaurs and singing stuff, I swear it was a date. Oh, and your lipstick was smudged in the outro, so I thought you guys made out or something."

I snicker at her eagerness, shaking my head, "Unfortunately, nope," I pop the _p_ sound, grimacing.

"You're keeping the baby though, right? You've always wanted to be a mom."

"Yeah, I guess," I exhale loudly, running a hand lightly over my nonexistent bump.

"Congrats, man."

"I don't know if you should be saying that," I mutter, "Seeing that Erik might hate me for the rest of my life."

"He doesn't hate you. He loves you," a smirk is palpable in her voice and I shake my head at her suggestiveness. I have very inappropriate friends.

"I don't know about that... but alright," I stand, "I gotta go now. Thanks, Ari."

"No prob," I can practically hear her wink and blow a kiss through the phone as she hangs up and I grin, "Bye!"

I set my phone down on the table, still trembling, every nerve in my body aware that something has changed, my heart pumping so hard it resonates through my bones.

I'm not exactly crying yet— a good thing, because I hear footsteps growing louder, meaning Kory is coming up the stairs. However, I _am_ shaking, my hands quivering with nerves. I instinctively place a trembling hand over my flat lower abdomen, an unexpected surge of love rushing through me for something I didn't know existed until a few minutes ago.

Erik's child. My child. _Our_ child. 

* * *

_"what you don't understand is falling in love wasn't part of my plan."  
~ariana grande, lovin' it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's Lovin' It


	8. He Wasn't My Everything Until We Were Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colleen's POV

"Colleen?" I hear.

"W-what?" I manage to answer, trying my best to keep the stutter from my voice.

"Taking a shit doesn't take that long!" Kory yells from outside the door, pounding a few times. I roll my eyes, still deep in thought, my mind never leaving the fact that I'm _pregnant_.

"What if I'm constipated?" I grumble back, keeping my voice neutral while I try to shove all the pregnancy tests I've taken in the last hour into my cabinet. Opening the door of my bathroom, I find myself face to face with the one and only Kory DeSoto.

"Whatcha doing in there?"

"Peeing?" I roll my eyes.

"What took so long?" He cocks an eyebrow suggestively and I whack him across the arm with a glare.

"I zoned out." That's not a complete lie, I guess.

"Oh, right."

"Leave me alone," The smirk dies from Kory's face; he knows when I'm serious, especially when I'm this blunt.

"Wanna talk?"

"Taco Bell first," I grunt, grabbing him by an arm and dragging him downstairs. He agrees wordlessly, pulling the wrapped food from the greasy paper bags I brought back.

We finish our food in silence, not an uncomfortable silence, but one we both sit and enjoy. The moment I swallow my last bite of food he clears his throat. "Talk."

I hesitate, and I can see the worry evident in his eyes. Never have I refrained from telling him everything before, and my hesitation was clearly suspicious.

I don't even know if I can say it.

"It's Erik," I finally mumble, feeling a soft blush creep to my cheeks. I resist placing my hands over my stomach, although I feel an urge to protect the life inside me.

The teasing glint doesn't come to his eyes, and I silently sigh in relief. "Okay. Continue," he prompts, and I inhale a shaky breath.

"I think..." I look up from my hands to see the silent encouragement in his eyes, and I keep going, "I'm in love with him," I rush out in a mumble.

"Girl, I knew that a long time ago," he chuckles, and I feel my cheeks burning as my blood rushes to my face.

Oh. Well that's nice to know.

I can't bring myself to laugh alongside him, and his grin falters, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can ever tell him," I admit, my mind flashing back to the last month.

"Why?"

"Argument," I finally say. It's not a lie.

Technically.

He studies my face, and I'm suddenly afraid he can see right through me, "You're not telling me everything. There's more, isn't there?"

This isn't the typical Kory I know, who's always joking and teasing, making the atmosphere lighter. He's dead serious, and that comforts me, that he's taking into consideration the mess I am and have been

"What?"

"What happened that night? Really?" I know he's referring to _that_ night and I stiffen. He sees it, the change in my body and expression.

My mouth is open, but no words come out. "I-I-"

"Don't say you don't remember. I know you do." He's not trying to force me, but the bluntness of it still hits me, and I flinch, my bottom lip quivering as I fight back the tears that are only a blink away from streaming down my cheeks

"Oh," he breathes out, eyes flickering over my hands which laying gently over my uterus, like they're instinctively protecting the embryo inside. He knows, he knows he knows he knows. Kory knows. Like he always does.

"Kory," I manage.

"You're pregnant." Although I expect him to say this, it still lashes me like a whip, and I can't help a little whimper that falls from my lips; all hell breaks loose. I'm crying, shaking, as my unstable hands find their way to my abdomen covering the spot where my unborn child is.

His steady arms wrap around me and I sink into him gratefully, shuddering as I'm racked with unexpected sobs.

"Hey, hey, hey, Colleen," he murmurs, "this might be a good thing, no? Haven't you always wanted to be a mom? Especially with the guy you love?"

I sniffle, "Well, yes, but what if he doesn't have feelings for me? What if he doesn't accept this baby and leaves me? What if the Internet decides to forever label me a slut because we're not even dating?"

"Oh, Erik likes you alright," Kory grunts, and I pull back my head to look at him in astonishment. "Everyone knows-"

"But I-"

"Except you," he finishes, and I can only look at him with a mixture of hope and desperation.

I only proceed to cry harder, my chest convulsing as I fight to control my sobs.

"But..." He bites his lip and I know he's contemplating whether to say whatever he's going to say next. "You guys..."

"Had sex?" I finish, lifting my head, "Yes," I tell him brusquely, and he sighs grabbing the nearest tissue box and shoving it at me.

"Thought you didn't remember."

"Well, I do now." He's biting his lower lip again so I prod him, "What?"

He chuckles nervously, "I might've known this whole time?"

It takes a moment for this to register, and when it does, it hits _hard_. "Wait, WHAT?" My mind is racing and my heart is pounding and I'm going to collapse, so I plop back down on my chair.

"I... kinda heard," he grunts, grimacing, "We... uh don't exactly have soundproof walls."

"KORY DESOTO!" I charge him, and he dodges, seizing me by the wrists, "YOU KNEW AND DIDN'T TELL ME?"

"Look, I'm sorry," he relents, letting go of my hands, "But it would've been awkward if you knew. You didn't remember, so I wanted to let you find out on your own, or better, never find out." His voice drops, although there's no one here. "I know you love him, and I didn't want to ruin that for you _or_ him."

I can only stand there, my hands slipping involuntarily back over my lower abdomen, clutching it tightly as if to shield the tiny life in there. This new feeling of motherly protectiveness comes along with a little regret, not for what I did, but the fact that I don't remember what happened that night. It mildly disgusts me that I really want to remember.

"I-" I sit back down, completely understanding. I'm still slightly angry at Kory not telling me, but the past is in the past. "I-I don't know what to do," I whisper.

"Colleen," he breathes, looking me in the eye, and dread makes my heart fall into my stomach because I know what he's going to say, "You need to tell him."

* * *

_"i've cried enough tears to see my own reflection in them, and then it was clear, i can't deny i really miss him"  
~ariana grande, my everything_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's My Everything


	9. Look How They Align

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik's POV

My phone chimes as I get a text from Colleen, and I don't know what to feel. Relieved that she's not ignoring me anymore? Angry that she has neglected to check up on me for so long?

_**Colleen Ballinger  
** _ _Can you come over pls? I'm sorry. I need to talk to you._

My heart flutters when I see it, and I know without doubt that I'm still completely head-over-heels for her. It's not like I can help it. She's too sweet, and kind, and funny, and pretty, and amazing, and literally everything I've ever wanted in a partner. The fact that she practically fell from the sky right into my lap makes me feel like I'm in a romance movie, and it's exhilarating, but here's the thing. I don't know if there's going to be a happy ending. I don't know if I'll get my "happy ever after" with her, or end up with her at all.

My thumbs twiddle over the keyboard as I contemplate what to say back, freezing when the three little text bubbles appear, blinking as if to mock me.

 _Please_ , it reads, and I don't hesitate before slipping into my car, my shoes still untied. Before my mind can even comprehend what I'm doing, I'm pulling out from my apartment's driveway, hurrying to Colleen's house without thinking; I know this route by heart.

My heart's pounding so loud it serves as an effective bass for the music that floats thinly through my speakers, and I pull my keys out, inhaling slowly in an attempt to calm my heart. 

_What am I going to do? What am I going to say?_

My hands are almost shaking, and I push my car door open, placing one foot outside slowly like it'll stall any time for me.

I stumble slowly to her door, hands braced out in front of me to knock, but the door swings open, and my heart does that little flip when I catch sight of her. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. Last time I never made it inside.

We just stand in this silence that chokes me and strangles me until I'm gasping for air. "Colleen," I finally greet, eyeing the threshold, and desperately hoping I'm going to even step over it this time.

"Hey," she whispers, and my stomach curls into itself when I meet her bloodshot eyes, so desperate, longing... just like _that_ night.

My mind is moving too fast, and everything comes to me a second later, because she's stepping forward, hesitantly but surely and she's placing a hand over the epicenter of the thumping that reverberates through my chest and I almost explode at her touch and she's rising up on her toes, and I'm subconsciously leaning down and my eyes flutter closed and I know exactly what's gonna come next and she tilts her head slightly, her lips parted just barely, her breath meeting mine and that's when she kisses me. For real this time.

It takes so long to register, takes so long for me to really understand what's happening, but she's pulling away too fast, and I can still feel the memory of her on my lips because they tingle. I want to be mad at her, I want to be angry and shout at her and yell for everything she's made me feel.

But I can't. Because I can't help it. I can't help liking her, I can't help loving her, I can't help wanting her, I can't help _needing_ her. She's the one who makes my heart pound, she's the one who makes my butterflies swarm in my stomach, she's the one that makes my palms sweat, she's the one who makes me want to kiss her _so fucking bad_ I don't know how I resisted for so long.

"Well, hello to you too, Ballinger," I bite my lower lip, my heart finally slowing to the speed of a freight train.

A small, heart-melting smile pulls up the corner of her lips as she gauges my reaction. "Uh... hi," she waves with one hand, stepping back to let me in, and I can't help the chuckle that escapes my mouth.

She shuts the door gently, wringing her hands, but never actually saying something. I see it in her eyes. _I made the first move. It's your turn._

"So," I run a hand through my hair, brushing it off my forehead, "I'm here."

"Thank you," her lips twist back into that small heart-stopping grin, and I pull her to my chest, holding her close.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, feeling her wrap her arms around my torso, tucking her head under my clavicle.

"Don't be," she mumbles, inhaling deeply, and I bite my lip to refrain from saying something I'll regret.

I guide her gently over to the couch and we sit, unsure what to say as she leans back, swallowing so that her throat ripples smoothly. My own throat constricts.

She gives me a tiny simper, and hesitates before blurting, "Kiss me?"

I'm laughing and she's blushing but I'm kissing her again, leaning forward to claim her lips with my own. Any resentment I've felt toward her ghosting me has evaporated and is replaced by an overwhelming sense of affection, and so I kiss her.

It's slightly awkward at first, our lips tentatively brushing, moving slightly, as if exploring, but she shifts onto her knees without ever disconnecting our mouths, arms resting on my shoulders around my neck, now kissing me with more fervor.

My heart is practically going to implode at the speed it's going, and she brushes a fingertip over my neck, stroking my carotid pulse as it pounds mercilessly under her fingers. I gasp as a shiver runs through me and she takes advantage of this, dipping her tongue between my parted lips.

And I can't help a shiver that runs through me because I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm _alive._ The sky breaks open and the stars explode and the planets align and the earth shudders and everything shatters into incomprehensible fragments at the intensity of this moment. Because I am kissing Colleen Ballinger. And she's kissing me.

It doesn't take long to realize I'll never have enough, because her lips taste nothing like I've ever imagined. Her soft, perfect, pink lips draw me in so far I know I'm never going to come out. We pull away to gasp for air, and I'm already drowning, falling, getting lost and sinking into her deep chocolate eyes.

I'm leaning back for more, but her hands braced against my chest stop me.

"Stop," she says, breathless, the dizzying spin of the earth tilted on its axis fading. "You came here to talk. I need to talk to you," she murmurs, and her voice is low and raspy, slightly sultry and seductive and I have to blink the spots that cloud my vision at the mere sound of her voice.

"Sure," I croak, running my hand through my hair, "Er... can I use the bathroom first?" I blush. _Gosh, darn it, Erik. Now she's going to think you don't want to talk._

But she just laughs, pointing to a barely visible door, "Sure. Right there."

"I know where it is," I wink at her as I stand, shuffling over to her downstairs bathroom only to find it locked.

"Uh... hello?"

"I'm pooping!" Kory screams and I stifle laughter as I retreat.

"Erika?"

"Yup," I call, "I'm here."

"Great, now let me poop in peace."

"Uh... okay."

I turn around to Colleen snickering at me and I roll my eyes.

"Use the one in my room," she suggests, and I nod, taking two stairs at a time to her room, the very one I helped design while she ate pickles.

I don't look at her room when I walk it; although I've been here numerous times, including _that night_ , I feel that it's too personal, too private, too intimate. I don't touch anything when I enter her bathroom either. Only the toilet cover, which I lift with a finger. I'm all ready to unzip my pants and piss, but I freeze.

I see _that._ My hands freeze from where they rest on my zipper and waistband, my heart stopping dead. _What?_

My breaths are coming in faster pants, as I reach out a trembling hand to grab _it_ off the floor. It's just a thin strip of paper, just barely camouflaged against the bathroom tile.

It doesn't take a genius to see that it's a pregnancy test. And it's positive. 

* * *

_"universe must have my back, fell from the sky into my lap."  
~ariana grande, track 14 (pete davidson)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's Track 14 (Pete Davidson)


	10. Know I'm Not Your Only, But At Least I'm One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colleen's POV

I sigh as I watch Erik saunter to the bathroom, unable to keep a small smile from appearing on my lips. I bring my hand to my mouth, brushing it over softly, unable to stop a shiver from the thrill that runs through me at the thought of everything that just happened.

I remember making a video on things that pregnant women do that annoyed me, and now I'm practically that person, unable to stop rubbing my belly. My hand drifts back over to my stomach, and I stroke it softly over my hoodie. It's hard to imagine that the bump will be visible soon, then more than visible. It'll protrude from my abdomen and inside will be a kicking, living, real, baby. _I'll have to tell my fans,_ I realize with a pang. _What if they all leave? What if they think I'm just some worthless slut?_

"Hey," I whisper, glancing down at the bump-to-be, slipping my fingers under my top to touch the warm skin there gently. "I know you're there, baby. I don't care if you're a boy or a girl. I'll love you anyway." I can feel myself choking up, and I silently curse myself for these hormones that apparently exist.

"I love you," I murmur, a sudden rush of adoration for my unborn child slipping into my heart so strong I almost tip over, "Even if your father doesn't. Or if he decides to hate me or leave me. I don't know, baby. I'm scared. Not of you. Of the future. Of what it holds for me and both of us. But I can promise I'll always be there. I love you, baby." God, I'm a sap.

And Erik has to choose this moment to come out of the bathroom. I turn when I see a flash of movement in my peripheral vision, and I freeze when I catch sight of him, still clutching the stair railings.

"How much did you hear?" I finally manage to get out, but only barely before I catch the thing in his hand. It's a pregnancy test...that I probably left just sitting out in plain sight. My heart stutters to a stop and I can only gape at him, my cheeks flushed with guilt and something else I can't identify in my state. Fear?

"More than enough," he looks stricken, "and this," He holds up the positive pregnancy test.

The look on his face is stricken with so much emotion for a second, I'm sure he's going to run away and leave me here. He steps slowly down the stairs, and that's when I see the glimmer in his eyes. It's the sheen of tears, the glow of hope and love in his eyes, and I choke back tears. _I'm the father?_ His eyes question, and I nod in response, knowing with all of my heart he knows what I'm telling him.

"I'm never going to leave you," he vows solemnly, "I promise."

And with that, he kisses me. If soft and reassuring and it's comforting and it says _I love you._ It whispers his unspoken words into my soul, and it's refreshing and beautiful and it's everything I've ever needed and wanted. It's a promise. It's _his_ promise.

He hooks his pinky with mine, and a sobbing laugh bursts out of me as I curl my finger around his tightly, feeling a strange comfort in this ritual I hadn't done since I was a child. 

"Pinky promise," he assures me.

Tears continue to run down Erik's face, and I swipe them off with the pad of my thumb. My mind flashes back to not too long ago, when our roles were reversed. I grin slightly, kissing the stubble on his chin and tucking myself into his chest. He's crying, his eyes resting so tenderly on my face I can't help but do the same. I love him and he loves me. It's always been that way. I just never noticed. And for once, it isn't hard to tell him.

"Erik," I blurt out before I can stop myself, "I love you."

I wince at the desperation in my voice, but he only blushes and smiles wider.

He swipes the moisture from his face and sighs, interlocking his fingers with mine, "I love you," he mumbles back, slipping an arm down my torso to rest on my stomach. I shiver at his lingering touch, and he notices with a soft giggle, wrapping his arms around my hunched body.

"I missed you," I admit, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"Me too," He tells me, kissing my nose softly.

The slamming of the toilet cover startles us both from the moment, and I quickly roll off him just as Kory leaves the bathroom, pocketing his phone.

"Hey, Erika. Oh my-" Kory turns to me, "Um...you told him?"

"Yeah," I chuckle, leaning into Erik's shoulder. Erik nods silently, dipping his head to kiss my hairline. My heart just about explodes from the little gesture, and Kory can tell.

"So are you two dating now?" My gay best friend looks between the two of us, and I turn to Erik. _What are we?_

"Uh..."

 _Will you be my boyfriend?_ I tell him silently, and he gives me a small grin, I can tell he knows what I'm thinking. He leans down to peck me on the lips and I let out a shaky giggle of relief, "Yes."

"Okay. Y'all have some telepathy thing. That's nice."

I stand up to pull Kory down on the couch next to me, "Sit down, Kor. Don't be jealous. I love you two both."

"Aw, thank you, sweetie," Kory smiles sweetly as if he was a bitch soccer mom telling another mom that his kid was better than theirs. Boyfriends and best friends, always secretly "hating" each other, gotta love 'em.

"So now what do y'all wanna do?" I attempt to break the awkward tension that's beginning to set.

"Uh... watch a movie?" Erik mumbles softly, and Kory nods in agreement, lifting his foot in a lazy attempt to grab the remote that's sitting on the coffee table.

"You lazy butt," I grumble, leaning forward to grab the remote before tossing it at him.

Kory grins wordlessly, pulling up a documentary that seems interesting enough. I lean into my boyfriend's shoulder, propping up my legs on the former, sighing. _Boyfriend. I like that._

We're all sitting somewhat silently, and after 20 minutes have elapsed, it's quite clear none of us are really enjoying this. So I pause it.

"Guys," I whine, "It's so awkward," I nervously chuckle.

Kory stands up, shaking my legs off, "I'ma leave you two here."

"No!" I yelp, "Don't go!"

"Coll," he laughs, "I have to go edit a video. And besides, I think y'all want to spend some time alone and talk things over."

I just frown at him.

"I'm not jealous," he assures me. He embraces me quickly before sauntering away with his usual energy, "I'm happy for you."

And to be honest, I'm happy for me too.

* * *

_"just a little bit of your heart is all i want... just a little bit of your heart is all i'm asking for."  
~ariana grande, just a little bit of your heart_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Ariana Grande's Just a Little Bit of Your Heart


	11. Obviously Insane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik's POV

"So, uh, boyfriend," she grins at me, and I can see the joy in her eyes. I'm unable to resist the way my lips twitch up at her smile.

"Girlfriend," I prompt, tapping her on the nose, which makes her giggle, which makes my heart flip which makes me blush and her laugh again.

"Tell me," she sits up on the couch so she's angled towards me. Our knees are touching just slightly, and my skin is burning, but I love it, "How long have you, er, liked me?"

I feel my cheeks burning as a blush creeps into my cheeks, "I really don't know. Ever since the beginning, I guess. It just took me way too long to realize I was falling for you this whole time, and not just attracted, like physically to you."

She pats me on the knee, "Aww, cute."

"How 'bout you?" I grab her arm and pull her on top of me so I'm laying with my back propped on the arm of the couch and her laying next to me, but half on top.

She turns slightly to cuddle into my chest and I can feel my heart doing its usual somersaults, "Same, I guess. Like I guess I just accepted pretty early on that I had a crush on you, but I was like 'eh, he's just hot. And really adorable. And it's just a phase.'"

I flush at her words, and she pokes me in the cheek, "Stocklin's blushing," she sings, and I swat her hand away.

Around her, I'm always blushing anyway. Somehow, I'm not used to it.

A part of me is glad I'm not used to it. Because my cheeks burn the same every time, and my heart races the same every time, and my palms sweat the same every time. Getting used to it takes the thrill away.

And I never want to not feel like this.

"Shut up," I pout, and she just smiles, a flash of her teeth showing through her perfect lips.

"I dunno, man," She continues, "And then the weird crush feeling never went away, and I was like 'Ah shit, here we go again.'"

"And when was this?"

"Before Josh and I, y'know, broke up," she admitted, "I felt really guilty, and I didn't know what to do," she confessed, "And he was already accusing me of cheating with you, and we just kinda stopped loving each other _that_ way, I guess," she trails off, and I can see the sheen of tears in her eyes.

"Well, we're here now," I murmur, "The past is in the past."

"Let it go," she chimes in, her singing voice beautiful as always, and I let out a heavy chortle as she references the iconic song from _Frozen_.

"Yeah, I guess," I purse my lips, and she rolls over to kiss them. She's laying flat on my chest, her head tucked in my neck, my arms around her waist. And although my neck and back are already aching from the strain, I don't think I ever want to leave this position.

She sits up, so her knees are on either side of my body, straddling me. And as she looks down, her eyes wide, and I can feel my mouth dry up. _Oh, God._

"Uh, Ballinger," I mumble faintly.

"Hmm?"

"Can you, uhm," I cough uncomfortably, "like, not in a bad way, but, uh, get off, before... "

I think she understands because she lays back down with a smirk, scooting so her back is against my stomach. We're laying sideways, staring at the frozen TV screen.

"Sorry," I bite my lip, and I can see her doing the same to stifle the laughter.

I bury my face into her hair, my face burning seriously hot; I wouldn't be surprised if I caught on fire right there. I inhale deeply, feeling everything inside me flip yet settle inside of me, in a comforting way. She smells like... I couldn't describe it in words. It's just... home.

Home. Where I belong, where my heart belongs, where my baby belongs. Where I want to stay forever and never leave because it's my home.

She shivers slightly in my embrace, and I hold her tighter against me, not wanting to ever let go. I think it's the moments like these in life, where it's all worth it.

There's always the bad, rocky times in life, when the road is bumpy, and littered with rocks waiting to trip and impale you. But then, you find a smooth patch, where you can glide with your arms free, and you take it, and make the most out of it. And it's those wonderful, absolutely beautiful moments in life that just makes all the pain worth it.

"I love you," I tell her.

"I love you," she tells me.

And my heart just about bursts.

"I love you more," I breathe into her hair, and by the way her breathing hitches, I can tell she likes it. I can't stifle the soft simper that comes to my lips when she whispers her response.

"Never stop."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise," I tell her, unable to stifle a little smile at the way her lips twitch in joy when I hook her pinky with mine.

I grin as she presses her lips to mine softly. I see the hint of a smirk when I feel a flicker of tongue against my lips, and I gladly grant her access, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist.

She's carrying her child. My child. Our child. And I couldn't be happier.

* * *

_"we both know what we want, so why don't we fall in love? baby, let's fall in love."  
~ariana grande, touch it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's Touch It (one of my favorites (((((: )


	12. Epilogue: Saving My Love For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik's POV

  
She’s in pain. I am too. Not physically. But I really can’t stand watching my wife struggle.

“Erik!” She gasps as another contraction pulses through her, and I see her body convulse. This one is definitely bigger, and I feel my chest ache at the agony on her face.

I put away the camera, shifting so I’m beside Colleen.

“You okay, love?” I whisper, and she laughs slightly.

“You look so scared,” she reaches out to grab my hand, and I give it to her, slightly shaking.

She grips my hand tightly, wincing as another contraction surges through her body, and I flinch at the soft whimper that leaves her throat. Her nails are digging into my hand, but I can’t really care right now.

Her breaths are slightly ragged as the wave of pain subsides, and I can see the glimmer of tears that fill her eyes.

“You want an epidural?” I murmur softly, and I can see her debating whether she should get the drugs or not.

“Stocklin,” she lets out another groan as the Pitocin kicks in, making the contractions closer and stronger. 

“Breathe,” I whisper into her ear, as another contraction races down her spine.

“I’m trying,” she snaps, her back arching slightly as our little baby fights its way out of the womb.

“Colleen,” a doctor approaches her slowly, “Would you like an epidural?”

“Yes,” she gasps out almost immediately, biting her lip as yet another contraction holds her abdomen in its grip.

I grind my teeth together as another pained moan is ripped from her throat, a guttural sound that pierces my heart.

Not too long later, the doctor returns with a needle, and instructs Colleen to roll to her side.

My world seems to be muted. I watch everything occur with wide eyes, my grip never loosening from my wife’s hand.

He inserts the large needle into her spine, and through her hospital gown, I can see her legs trembling. Almost instantly, I see Colleen exhale deeply as she relaxes.

“Feel better?” I murmur, and she nods.

“Definitely,” she frowns shifting her weight, “I still feel, like, this weird pressure, but the pain is completely gone.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

She nods, and I let out a sharp exhale, a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

The hours fly by, and I never leave Colleen’s side.

“Love?” she taps me.

“Yeah?”

“What are we going to name him?”

“Whatever you want,” I tell her, rubbing her knuckles with my thumb.

“I don’t know,” she lets out a sharp laugh, and I chuckle along.

“A family name, right?”

“Yup.”

I ponder for a moment, “I really don’t know either,” I shake my head.

“We’re hopeless,” she chuckles, bringing our joined hands to her face to kiss my knuckles gently.

“Ballinger?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be parents,” I smile, closing my eyes for an instant, imagining the future. We’re going to have a child. He’s going to keep us up all night, and cry, and poop and pee and vomit and do nothing else but keep us awake. But we’re still going to love him. 

“I know,” she grunts softly as another contraction sweeps over her, “Isn’t that cool?”

I nod, stifling another yawn.

“You can sleep if you’re tired,” she mumbles, but I shake my head stubbornly.

“I’m staying until this stubborn baby comes out,” I insist, and she just chuckles.

“This is wild, lovey,” Colleen breathes out, gripping my wrist tightly.

“I know…"

"Colleen, I can't express how much I love you right now," I say, tears lining my eyelids.

"I love you too-" Colleen says softly as she makes her way through yet another contraction. I can't stand her in this hospital bed. We grew silent, and I gripped her hand tightly hoping she understood that I would never let her go if she needed me. 

A few of her family slowly trickled into her room, each conversing with her for a few minutes, or in the case of her niece and nephews, just stood and said a few words.

“Hi Auntie Panties! Hi Uncle Erik!”

Uncle?

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips and by the way Colleen looks at me, I can tell she notices.

"Erik?" Her voice snaps me out of my little reverie. 

"Yes, sweetheart?" I ask, turning to the woman I love. 

"Can you grab me a pen from my purse? Rachel needs a pen."

"Of course," I go over to Colleen's purse, open the bag and look for a pen. I grip the pen and pull it up to take it to her…then something catches my eye. I didn't know Colleen still had it in her purse. I suppose she just forgot after Ireland. Flynn, it reads. 

My middle name. I make my way back to Colleen, stumbling. 

"Colleen." I say softly. She looks up to me and nods, in the middle of a contraction. "Flynn." I could see her gasp, not only because she is having a contraction, but because of the name.

Flynn, one of the first names we ever came up with. At the time the name was just an option, a simple choice. Now, it's my son. My biological, real life, son. The son I have with my love, Colleen. My son. Named after me.

“Erik?”

“Yeah?” I look away from my wife’s eyes to see Rachel standing at the door.

“Can I have a pen?”

I blush, realizing I’ve forgotten and dig through Colleen’s purse to find one. I toss it to her with a quiet mumble, “Sorry, I forgot.”

Hours later, I’m pacing back and forth, a camera shoved in my shaky hand after I’m completely sure she’s okay. 

“Erik,” she chuckles, and I can see determination glittering in her eyes despite the exhaustion that darkens her countenance, “Chill out.”

“How am I supposed to chill out when a baby is going to force it’s way out of your fucking vagina?” I bounce, suddenly freaking out at all the possiblities.

What if the baby gets stuck? What if the baby is… different? What if the baby dies on it’s way out? What if Colleen doesn’t… make it? What if…

I have to fight back a croak when my throat constricts.

“I’m going to be okay,” she grabs my hand.

“Promise?” I ask shakily, “You have to promise me in a few days we’re going to be home with Flynn, and that you’re going to be okay, and that he’s going to be okay. Please.” I get out in one breath, breathing heavily as fear rushes through me.

She says nothing, but simply slips her pinky between my fing and pinky finger, curling it tightly around mine.

I immediately perk up when the doctor walks in, lifing her gown so he can measure the dialation.

He nods, and my heart seizes, when he walks up to Colleen and tells her it’s time to push.

She looks determined, and she grips my hand with the same energy that she throws into her work, a little anxiety but mostly determination etched into her face

“Ready?”

She nods at me, and with a soft grunt of effort she begins to push our son out, her teeth clamped down, chin tucked in.

I would’ve laughed at the Miranda-like double chin if it wasn’t so terrifying.

Thirty seconds later, she relaxes, and nurses dart over to check the progress.

And the cycle repeats. Colleen practically grinds her teeth to dust with the effort, her eyes rolling back into her head, nails digging into my hand so hard I’m afraid I was going to bleed.

I don’t remember zoning out. But I don’t remember the process. It’s like one second she was pushing, and the next, I’m a father.

I’m a father.

A fucking father. I have a son. I have a child. This, I simply can’t wrap my mind arond.

My wife burst into tears the moment she sees him, covered in her own blood and amniotic fluid.

I don’t realize what is happening until the doctor hands me a pair of metal scissors.

I take it in a daze, my fingers shaking like I had Parkinson’s. And with a quick clench of my fingers, I forever sever the physical cord that connects my son to Colleen.

I can only gape as he is laid on a towel over her chest as she sobs openly. 

He’s crying, his mouth parted in a loud cry, that shook me back to existence.

There he is.

Flynn Stocklin.

My very own son, derived from my genes.

My own little mistake, an accident created from foolish drunkeness. 

But I don’t regret it. I’m glad it happened.

The doctors are roughly wiping the fluid from his delicate skin, and I want to tell them to be gentler, but no sound comes from my throat, except an uncharacteristic hiccup when I finally find my voice, my cheeks wet before I realize I’m crying.

Before long, his skin is spotless, and his eyes are sticky, opened into the smallest slits.

I’m dazzled by a flash of blue, and I gasp, turning to my wife.

“Love, his eyes are blue,” I whisper, stroking his soft baby skin with two fingers, like I could break him.

She acknowledges it with a teary-eyed smile, and turns to me, “Can his middle name be Timothy?”

And there it is. The connection between my family and hers. My middle name, and her father’s first name. 

“Of course,” I whisper.

Before long, I’m forced to step out, because only so many people can be in the same room, but not before I see the comical look of terror and bewilderment when the doctor examines her, erm, nether regions and lists all the tears they’ll have to patch up.

When I finally slump down in a chair in the waiting room outside, I realize adrenaline is pumping through me, my heart pounding, my fingers twitching.

My family is all back in New Jersey, but my new family is here to celebrate with me. My nieces and nephews (wow, when did that happen?) flash me an excited look before meeting their young cousin for the first time.

My brother-in-laws congratulate me.

My sister-in-law takes the camera from me and hugs me.

My mother-in-law is crying, and walks over to me to congratulate me. I say the same back.

My father-in-law is a little less emotional, and just thanks me for being there for Colleen. I say the same back.

And when I’m finally left alone, it’s all so surreal.

I’m surrounded by my new families, the one I created, the one I married in to. 

And when we’re finally home, a few days later, sitting with our newborn son in the rocking chair that has been collecting dust in the corner of the nursery, I tell Colleen this:

“You’re the best mistake I’ve ever made.”

It comes out wrong, and I open my mouth to tell her so, she cuts me off with a soft peck, gingerly leaning over so she doesn’t wake the baby.

And she starts singing, her voice more than just music to my ears. It is my life source, my everything, aquired from one simple mistake that completely rewrites the latter half of my life I had planned out.

It’s an Ariana Grande song, and I’m awed that she is even friends with this wonderful artist, who somehow wrote this song depicting what has happened years before it occurd.

It’s called Best Mistake, I’m told, and I feel my heart flutter at the name.

And when she comes to the chorus, I can’t help the few tears that slip down my cheeks. 

“”Cause if the water dries up, and the moon stops shining, stars fall, and the world goes blind, boy, you know I’ll be saving my love for you, for you. “Cause you’re the best mistake I’ve ever made. But we hold on, hold on.”

She’s looking at both me and Flynn as these words flow from her mouth, and I can tell it’s for both of us.

Both mistakes she made, both forever worth it.

And she’s crying too, as our son sleeps soundly in her arms.

And I don’t regret anything.

* * *

_"i love you." "i love you" "i love you." "i love you." "i love you more." "never stop."  
~colleen ballinger and erik stocklin, the hug song (lyrics by parker ballinger)_

* * *

**Co-authored by[UnicornDaisy11](https://wattpad.com/user/UnicornDaisy11) on Wattpad.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ariana Grande's Best Mistake [ft. Big Sean]
> 
> And that's it, y'all. As far as I know, no one's reading this, but it's here because this is the one thing I'm even remotely proud of. It's not the best, and I'm forever grateful for the help and motivation from my writing buddy over there on Wattpad. Thanks for everything.


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